Chapter 1: Birth Of Million Star
It was a time long before Tyson's birth, a time when the Earth stood on the brink of a new age. A time that had withered into a myth for many, in the crumbling remnants of aged cities that now lay buried beneath new, harsh realities.
It was on that day, many years ago, that the voice came- a voice that rumbled across the skies, declaring humanity's fate in the hands of its own warriors. The great calamity began with the roar of an ancient God and was sealed by the eruption of the hourglass. That day, the earth quivered as if it was alive, and the sand began to fall in the hourglass marking the beginning of humanity's struggle for survival.
The hourglass, an outlandish black structure that had risen from the ashes, stood to this day at the heart of their existence. Time once believed to be their ally, now counted down to their end in a quite digital form.
Each grain of sand that fell away alongside the numbers reminded Earth that they had only ten years left. If they did not fight—if they did not win the Battle of Planets—humanity would be engulfed by the world they had fought to protect.
Tales of the day of reckoning were told in whispers, in fleeting conversations, but Tyson knew them well, though he had never lived through the event its weight pressed on him every day.
The earth was engulfed in an unrelenting cosmic storm, a breathtaking spectacle of thousands of stars descending from the sky. The sight was awe-inspiring, yet terrifying, as the once-vibrant world transformed into a desolate wasteland. The air crackled with electricity, accompanied by the rhythmic hum of the falling meteors. The metallic scent of the celestial debris filled the atmosphere, a reminder of the cataclysmic event.
As the stars crashed to the ground, they bestowed newfound abilities upon the humans, enabling them to don metal armors and take control of their destiny.
Since then it had been a battle for survival, where warriors in gleaming metal armors, known as Rangers, fought not only for glory but for time itself.
The ruins of the former cities stayed, now surrounded by towering concrete walls. Inside, new civilizations had taken root, their citizens aware of the ever-present danger- the battle was not over.
Yet the history of the catastrophe was not forgotten. It lived on in the streets, in the very air they breathed. Every crack in the pavement was a testament to that fateful day.
Tyson, like many before him, had been born into this harsh new world, raised among the ruins of humanity's past. He had never known a peaceful Earth. All he knew were the endless battles, the training, and the constant reminder that time was running out.